Comparisons
by Scraggles
Summary: Serah, Vanille - Lightning's thoughts and actions as she copes with the loss of her sister and the consolations of a child. Who is she to judge, with all of her problems? Who is Vanille to make her forget that they exist? Who will remember the remainder?


Hello all, just another one shot for youz before I leave for home, written in my spare time and fussed over for hours on end. Not very happy with it.. Hope you like. :)

Interestingly, this will be the first Vanaire fic I've written from Lightning's point of view.

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_Vanille._

Was that what she'd said her name was? Strolling about the frozen, woesome crystal wonderland that Bresha had become, Lightning pondered this strange, seemingly insane little woman. How could such a small girl, or any girl for that matter, be so bright and cheerful in such a dark, stifling time? So tiny, too – had such a frail little child really just infiltrated the Bodhum Vestige on her own? Well, not alone by usual standards, but with a whiny little teenager to take care of as well? This brought a frown to her lips.

So odd, this child was. Who in their right mind would dare waltz around Cocoon, even in as peaceful a province as Bodhum, and call themselves dressed as she was, with that terrible drawl? What back home, uncivilized dump had she come from? The vile peaks? That would make no sense at all. With her attitude, she couldn't have come from there, or anywhere else, for that matter. They would have chewed her up and spit her out within minutes.

In just about any town, she would have been arrested on sight with the way she acted. Though perhaps, that was exactly how she'd arrived here, spat out on a Purge train so the resident Guardian Corps wouldn't have to go through the trouble of registering a prisoner for the first time in ages. Perhaps, and perhaps not. In any case, she could have been from one of the blasted happy farms on some Eden forsaken end of the world, or the local loony bin even, but for the life of her, Lightning could not fathom just what this bouncy, babbling sugar-bran flake was, or for that matter, who she reminded her of.

Swinging steps, frolicking about, smooth, porcelain skin, small framed, frail little body bobbing up and down all the way – what sort of self-respecting human walked like that? Who else could put on that act and get away with it? Snow? No, that idiot lumbered about like an ogre and his words were as empty as the synthetic seas and the fal'Cie who created them. Then who? Who else was full of pep, optimism, fun, and love in the darkest of times? A shining light for everyone around her?

"_Cocoon." _

Just that one word - she flushed, memories of the sweet sister she'd always known, the girl who had cried the tear held so dear in Snow's gloved hand, the tear that she wished to take from him in remembrance of the one whose memories were already flooding her clouded mind. A cringe - knowing Serah, protecting her, shadowing her, sharing her, sleeping with her, being with her, believing in her, loving her, leaving her – it all hurt. If she had never left for a man... Lightning clutched her temple.

She remembered Serah's face in the vestige, pleading, yet so in love with them both, Snow and herself. She had _loved_ them, and she had glanced off into space. Yes, perhaps because she thought it would go unnoticed - that she could chance it without worrying her sister, but it was not meant to be. Serah had looked to Vanille, and the reaction was unmistakable - Vanille had gasped. Had she known her? This eccentric little fruit, humming along merrily all the while as they walked about a frozen wasteland? She didn't doubt it.

With so much in common, diminuity, demeanor, dress – yes, she had to admit, the overall choice of clothing was similar in its subtle nuances, Vanille's, albeit much, much more whimsical and foreign, though less technically layered – probably due to her layers of disintegrating sanity, Lightning mused. Oh, yes, her manner of outfitting fit in roughly the same rubric as Serah's, absolutely. They were very much alike. She could imagine the two hitting it off immediately. Say, at the beach, maybe; Serah could always be found around there. Bodhum was her favorite place to be, when she wasn't off shopping for the latest clothes, none of which she'd wear more than twice before she'd go back to her original outfit.

She thought of the scene – without a doubt something of a play date at first, the redhead and she dancing about in the sand with rousing cries of "ring around the chapel" or some other Sanctum imposed nursery rhyme and trouncing about where the waves met shore, or sculpting sandcastles with synthetic seashells and pretty little manicured nails together, all the while commenting on the wonderous subtleties of various clothing styles and giggling like fools. "Hmph," she rolled her eyes, muttering, "Yes, that's probably exactly what would go on if those two met."

"Hmm?"

She was startled to find sparkling, green eyes on her form as she turned to meet the girlish hum. It had sounded like Serah, she swore to herself, gaping slightly at the lithe bodied, childish thing that appeared to be appraising her every curve, a small grin peeking from under her rosy cheeks as she stopped in her path. Her mouth came to a close as she realized she was doing the same. She grimaced at their proximity, much too close for comfort, and gave her a hard look, murmuring, "Nothing."

Of course, the response, 'nothing,' did nothing to deter this little pest, and she simply stood there, tiny little hand growing tantalizingly close to touching Lightning's naked arm. The taller woman frowned. This girl was much too personal for her liking. Still, the seemingly innocent, pigtailed fiend's eyes brightened and she abandoned her side, prancing out front with a spin and looking back to her so playfully that it almost seemed as if she were chastising the stoic woman for her rigid existence. "Of course it has to be something, silly," she said, waving a thin finger, "Not a chance a big, strong soldier like yourself just struts around thinking about nothing. Something's gotta be on your mind – I can just _feel _it!" She enunciated the last part with an artsy painting of the air and swatted her imaginary line work away with a little scoff, smiling as she bounced on her toes.

_She really is like Serah, _Lightning confirmed, watching her dance about in front of her to prove her point, _Artsy too – that explains the layers. _She sighed, _No, what am I thinking? Rationalizing the dress of an attracti- bothersome little invalid like this. _Though, instead of the words burning as they should have, the thoughts brought a rare bit of peace to her. Perhaps a part of Serah still lived on in this strange, noisy maiden, a part that she was blessed by the Maker to see. _Big strong soldier, huh? _A wave of admiration washed over as she watched the little sprite dance about. Another exhale, and a gasp as she unconsciously wondered aloud, "What did she just call me?"

Vanille giggled at this, but apparently took the sigh differently than she'd meant, and Lightning was secretly gladder for it, despite the contact it earned her as the redhead took her by the hand and led her some few feet nearer to her, finally claiming the hard expanse of her toned bicep with her palm as she stared up at her in concern. Lightning held her gaze uncomfortably, not sure what to make of the advances coming from the short, glassy eyed woman, but there was a certain clarity in those eyes that held her there, unable to shake her off – for the moment.

Serah and Vanille, the two were not a perfect comparison, by any means; there were many things Vanille was that Serah was not. That was immediately apparent. Vanille was brave, where Serah was bashful; Serah was polite, where Vanille was boisterous; Vanille was loud, where Serah hardly made a sound, and where Serah would sympathize despite her own problems, Vanille had nothing to apologize for, or so it seemed - but it was the smile that made them the same. What harm could such a girl do, other than invading her space? Lightning's brows furrowed at the less than quiet optimism blanketing the pale – though no more so than herself – girl, focus roving from the curve of her lips that just didn't quite meet those wide, green eyes, down to the black abyss at the center of them, the searching – longing she'd seen before that waited inside, floating beneath the surface, an aching that mirrored that of the space between her parted lips. She pushed her away.

"It was nothing," she reiterated coldly, sidestepping her as the others came into her peripheral vision once more. Moving on, her pace decidedly faster than before, she glanced back to catch a slightly smaller Vanille, still watching her as she turned away. She frowned at her actions. Looking into that woman's eyes, a flush had blanketed her face, and she cursed this fact, that her emotions had still managed to affect her so. What had been that feeling? She did not know, and felt in kind that she did not want to.

As fast as she was, she was surprised to find the rest of the party quickly catching up to her at the bend, a large, crystal overhang shadowing them in the form of a wave, leaving only two options as to what direction she was to lead them – forward, or back. She sighed. There wasn't much of a choice.

The frown she'd been wearing for the past eternity, as it seemed, deepened even further until it was near a scowl as Snow, Sazh, and the pale, blonde-haired brat came up from the rear, all in significantly low spirits, but for Snow, who babbled on about hope, focus, and dreams. For once, she was grateful for the sullen kid trailing her behind – silent company – mostly anyway, when he wasn't talking to Vanille or bemoaning his loss, their state, or how horrible and painful the journey to "save cocoon" had already become. He was a typical teenager, much unlike the irritating young redhead: bright, boyish clothes, fleeting gait, round, inexperienced face, all of the characteristics of a child, rather than some of them. She glanced back to him, now being accompanied by the girl as they strolled along, and immediately returned her gaze to the breezy slopes before her.

And on she went, until she heard a shrill cry behind her. Instinctively, she turned to the source, hand tightening on her gunblade only to find the ginger trotting up to her again, looking positively elated.

_What is it now? _She found herself silently grumbling, still trudging along as if she hadn't noticed her.

Vanille matched her slow gait as she came to walk beside her, though her movement was more of a dance than a walking pace. Her pallid lips and creamy complexion radiated a faint orange under the soft glow of a particular row of crystals as they passed by, leaving Lightning to ponder just who this girl was and what she meant in saying her peace as she was now. Staring ahead, she watched the young woman's mouth from the corner of her eyes, the movement proving to be exceedingly fascinating.

She huffed, _Peace – a laughable thought with this little mango around._ A voice called out to her, shaking her from the brief respite of thought.

Vanille stood in front of her, waving her hands about and talking animatedly. However, instead of a mere smile, she now carried a toothy grin beneath those cheeks, and the way in which she did so seemed to make her presence become just that much more bearable.

"Nn?" The soldier hummed as if she'd been entirely disinterested in the conversation up until this point, rather than having been distracted. The girl's arm extended out into the distance, pointing.

Vanille squeaked, "Look! Look!" Far off, past the giant overhang was a massive formation of crystal, encasing a few segments of train cars. "It's Titan!" She squealed giddily.

Again, Lightning found herself being pulled along as the group caught up. "Who?" she asked as she ran to keep up with her, panting. _A fal'Cie by the name of Titan? _She had never heard of such, squinting at the obscenely large array of blocks that Vanille was cooing at, though it certainly did have form, she had to admit.

"Titan!" Vanille repeated chipperly, squeezing the soldier's hand. Lightning flushed.

She could hear the blonde boy groaning behind her. "What _is _that?" He moaned, as if the girl hadn't already vaguely pointed that out. So, she wasn't the only clueless one around, she surmised.

"We have to keep moving," the soldier ushered, shaking off the cutesy display with a huff. The corps were bound to come after them soon, now that rumors of l'Cie had been spreading for the past few weeks and the Purge, rather than Purgatory, as it had initially been monickered, had been set into motion. Yes, the Purge was admittedly the more politically correct term – exterminating victims of circumstance, she decided.

And as they went on yet again, it became quite obvious, the flawed logic in the comparison of Serah and Vanille. Without so much as a word, the girl followed her, as blatantly chipper as could be. As she strolled along, Lightning thought of this undeniably unconventional girl. Surely, she could not truly be cheerful in such a time as this, she thought to herself. There had to be something more, lying behind the lines. Though, at this thought, it seemed that so far, nearly all of her theories about her had been proven wrong.

At the very least, however, she could amuse herself as they went on, what with Vanille's incessant antics. And so this wandering aimlessly went on for hours and hours, until at last, they had come to a bridge of train car and crystal, melded together by the chaotic wave formations that had made themselves at home in the once peaceful lake of Bresha. Lightning looked upon them soberly as they traversed the expanse of destroyed train cars, now merely dented prisms of orange, held captive, the same as the fiery tresses of the friendly fiend she had become so accustomed to hearing at her side, telling age old stories and myths to pass the time.

"I wonder what else is down here," she was saying, speaking more to herself than to Snow, who was conversing with her. He must have fallen for her Serah-like charms as well.

"You'd do best not to try and find out," Lightning answered quietly, beginning her walk downwards, around the edge of the steep escarpment. "Careful," she cautioned, "Watch your footing. One wrong step and you'll get cut to pieces."

Snow nodded, running on down below. The others followed. The next moment, Lightning found to be the hardest in her life. There, locked in a pillar of crystal, lay her sister, Serah, and moments later, she lay with the oaf, the pilot, and the tangerine, all trying to free her, but Lightning knew it was all in vain. She had to leave. Serah could be saved later on, but for now, survival was the only thing that mattered. So, she turned her back and began to walk away, weeping but for the sight of her, when the last thing she had expected to happen happened: Snow stopped her.

"You're leaving?" Snow had asked, angry with her for the first time.

She had answered curtly, and and argument had ensued, whereby a troublesome metal beast had interrupted their conversation and they had trounced it easily, the six of them with their newly acquired powers.

Now, the buffoon had urged them onward, staying behind in a fruitless attempt to free his future wife, and Lightning lead the others through the highlands and valleys of Bresha, which were decidedly drearier than before. This was evident even in Vanille's mood, as she now walked near silently at her side. No doubt, the argument earlier had put a damper on her mood, and it was not a secret that she was missing the rather large idiot's company, seeing as the other man with them had made his mind up to be as depressing and non-conducive to progress as possible, though less so than the boy who both the man, Sazh, and Vanille had taken to conversing with. Though, other than when she was giving orders, no one had been quieter than Lightning.

And suddenly, the world lifted from her shoulders when the darker man and the moping boy offered to trot ahead and scout out the terrain, particularly after they had defeated a decidedly disgusting group of amphibian-like monsters. Yet, Vanille remained behind, and now stood in front of her, that deafening clarity still showing in her eyes as she stared up at her.

"Nn?" The hum seemed to chip away at the tension of unspoken words diffused in the air around them.

Still, that defiant look remained perched above those veridian orbs, and somehow, no measure of cruelty lay beneath it. She removed her hands from her hips, the porcelain appendages balling up at her sides as she said firmly, but not forcefully, "This has got to stop."

Lightning's head turned to the side curiously. "What?" she asked, taken aback. Of all the people who she had never expected to challenge her, Vanille had to be at the forefront of them. She was surprised to find her own hands taken up before her, the girl squeezing gently.

"You know what," she said urgently, clutching Lightning's calloused digits with her own, speaking slowly, soberly, "You can't hide it from me, and you can't hide it from Serah."

Her expression narrowed and she let the girl go on squeezing. "Hide _what?_" she asked, frowning, though she knew what this girl spoke of.

Vanille sighed, whispering, "You can't let this destroy you, Lightning."

The woman's brow furrowed down at her, then softened as she squeezed back. "Call me Light," she said quietly, and Vanille stared back at her, dainty nose wiggling just so slightly with her mouth, pulling up, down, up again as she chewed her lip.

"You can't,_ Light,"_ she corrected herself, blinking. "You promise me you won't?" she asked, and the look on her face made it impossible for the other woman to say no.

Whether it was because she wanted to, or simply because it seemed like the right thing to do, Lightning nodded, watching the girl's face light up again; she suddenly found herself crushed in a hug that displayed a strength she could not possibly imagine to be in the little valencia, and as she wrapped her own arms around her small frame, she found neither of them wanting to let go, but at last, they separated and Vanille remained, clasping hands with her for easily the tenth time.

Her skin was soft to the touch, memorable, and for the first in a while, Lightning smiled, if only slightly. She really was like Serah. And she thought this to herself as they held hands like this, the strange girl and she, standing in the midst of the walls of ice.

Now it was Vanille who smiled at her. "Let's go," she said with another experimental squeeze.

As they started off, Lightning looked over to the girl holding onto her hands gingerly. "Keep this between us?" she asked, making a pointed attempt at ignoring the rough spots between their otherwise plush, luxurious palms. Yes, Serah and Vanille, for the moment, those two just may have been the perfect comparison.

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Fin.

Cheers! Reviews much appreciated - makes me a happy camper and gets me writing again.


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